MAURUS
JOKAITHE CONTINENTAL CLASSICS
VOLUME
IXBLACK DIAMONDS
A
NOVEL BY
MAURUS JOKAI
TRANSLATED BY
FRANCES
A.GERARD
BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
608330
13.
Copyright,1896,byHARPER &BROTHERS.
DINTEDINTHE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA M-R
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I.
A
BLACK PLACE iII.
THE
SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS.... n
III.
THE
MAN-EATER 27IV.
A MODERN
ALCHEMIST-. ..;"..'.) 35V.
THE
DOCTOR 50VI. COUNTESS THEUDELINDE 63
VII.
THE
COUNTESS'S ALBUM 79VIII.
THE
EXORCIST 95IX.
"AN
OBSTINATEFELLOW"
132X.
THE
HIGHER MATHEMATICS 146XI. SOIREESAMALGAMANTES 155
XII. RITTER
MAGNET
166XIII.
ONLY
A TRIFLE 189XIV. THIRTY-THREE PARTS 207
XV.
Two
POINTS 225XVI. GOOD-BYE 232
XVII.
THE
LAST REHEARSAL 245XVIII. FINANCIAL
WISDOM
253XIX. FILTHY LUCRE 259
XX. No, EVELINE! 278
XXI. RESPECT FOR HALINA CLOTH 291
XXII.
Two
SUPPLIANTS 301iv
CONtENTS
CHAPTER PAGH
XXIII. FINANCIAL INTRIGUE 312
XXIV.
THE
BONDAVARA RAILWAY 317XXV. THE
POORDEAR
PRINCE 324XXVI. DIES IR^E 327
XXVII.
FROM
THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS . . 348XXVIII.
Two
CHILDREN 352XXIX.
IMMACULATE 357XXX. MAN
AND WIFE 365XXXI. EVA
DIRKMAL 373XXXII. CRUSHED 378
XXXIII. CHARCOAL 387
XXXIV.
CSANTA'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT...
395XXXV. THE GROUND
BURNS UNDER His FEET. . . 401XXXVI.
CHILD'S PLAY 406XXXVII.
EUREKA 411XXXVIII.
AT
PAR 419XXXIX. THE
UNDERGROUNDWORLD
428 XL. ANGELA is EVEN WITH IVAN 442XLI.
How
IVANMOURNED
450XLII. EVILA 453
XLIII.
THE
DIAMOND REMAINED ALWAYSADIAMOND 459BLACK DIAMONDS
BLACK DIAMONDS
CHAPTER
IA
BLACK PLACE
WE
are inthe depths of an underground cavern. Itis
bad enough
to be underground, but herewe
are allenveloped in black as well: the ceiling is black, so are the walls; they are
made
of blocks of coal.The
floor is one great black looking-glass. It is a sort ofpond, polished as steel.Over
this polished surface glistens the reflection of a solitary light, the light of a safety-lamp
shiningthrough a wire net.A man
guides himself over thepond
in a narrowboat.
By
the doubtful light of thelamp
he sees high pillars, which rise out of the depths belowand
reach to the very roof of the cavern pillars slender, like thecolumns
of a Moorish palace.These
pillars are half white and half black;up
to a certain point only are they coal black,beyond
that they are lightin color.What
are these pillars?They
are the stems of pinesand
palm-trees.These
gigantic stems are quite athome
in the layers overthe coal-mine, buthow
have they descended here?They
belong to another world the world of lightand
air.2
BLACK DIAMONDS
The
coal layers overhead sometimes take fire of them- selves, and thefire,being intense,hasloosened ths hold of these giantsand
sentthem
below,Coal-pits kindle of themselves often, as every novice knows, but in this case
who
extinguished the flames?That
is the question.The
solitary occupant of the rudely shaped boat or canoe goes restlesslyhereand
there,up
and down.He
is a
man
of about thirty years, with a pale face and a dark beard. Hisfirmlyclosedlips givehim
an expres- sion of earnestness, or strong, decided will; while his forehead,whichis broad, withlargebumps
over theeyes,shows
thatheisadeepthinker. His headisuncovered, for here in this vault the air is heavy,and
his curly blackhair isin thick masses, so thatheneeds nocover- ing.What
ishe doing here?He
driveshis boat over the black looking-glass ofthe lake; round and round he goes, searching the black walls with anxiety, hislamp
raised in his disengaged hand.Does
he imagine that a secret is hidden there?Does
he think thatby
touching a spring,and
saying"
Open
Sesame," the treasure hiddenthereforhundreds ofyears will springforth?In truth, he does find treasures.
Here and
there from theblackwall weaklyconstructed insome
placesby
Nature'shand
a pieceof stone loosensitselfupon
it the impression of a leaf belonging to a long-ago-ex- tinct species.
A
wonderful treasure this! In other places hecomes upon unknown
crystals, to which science has not as yet given aname
; orupon
anew
conglomeration of different quartz, metal, and stone a silent testimony to a convulsion of Nature before thisworld was. Allthesewitnesses speak.
3
The
pillars, too; overthem
the water of thepond
hasby
degreesformedacrustation ofcrystals, small,but visibleeven without aglass. This,too,gives testimony.The pond
is in itself wonderful. It has ebb and flow: twice in the day it empties itself; twice in theday it fills.
The
water rushes in leapsand
bounds,joyously, tumultuously, into this dark, sullenvault; fills it higher, higher, until it reaches the point on the pil- lars where the color changes.
There
it remains,some- times for two hours, stationary, smooth, andplacid as a glass.Then
it begins to sink, slowly, surely, until it vanishesaway
into the secret hiding-placesfromwhence
it has come. Curious, mysterious visitor!
The man
inthe boat
knows
its ways; he has studied them.He
waits patiently, until, with a sullen, gurgling sound, as
if lamenting the necessity, the last current of water vanishes behind a projecting
mass
of coal.Then
he hurriedly casts off his coat, his shoes, his stockings;he has nothing on but his shirt and trousers.
He
fas- tens roundhim
a leather pocket, in which is ahammer and
chisel; he takes his safety-lampand
fastens it to his belt; and, so equipped, he glides into one of the fissures in the black rock.He
is following the vanish- ing stream.He
is a courageousman
to undertake such a task, for hisway
lies through the palace of death. It needs a heart of stone to be there alone in the awful silence. It is a strong motive that brings him.He
isseeking the secret which lies under seven seals, the treasurewhich Nature has concealed for thousands of years. But this
man knows
not what fear is.He
re-mains three hours seeking. If he had any one awife, a sister, even a faithful servant,
who knew
where he was,what danger he was in,how
their souls would have goneout in agonyof fear for what mi&hthappen
!4
BLACK DIAMONDS
But he has no one; heisalone always alone.
There
is
no
one toweep
for his absence or to be joyful at hiscoming
; hislife is solitary,intheclearairofdaylight as well asin the depthsofthe cavern.The
vanished stream is as capricious as a coquettish maiden, as full of tricksand
humors.Sometimes
itdoes not
show
itself for three or four hours; at othermoments
itcomes
frolickingback in one,andwoe
tothe unfortunate wightwho
is caught in its embrace in the narrow windings ofthe coal-vault! Butthisman knows
thehumors
of the stream; he has studied them.He
and it are old acquaintances; he
knows
the signsupon
which he can depend, and heknows how
long the pausewill last.
He
can gaugeitsdurationby
theunderground wind.When
it whistles throughthe cleftsand
fissures, then heknows
the stream is at hand. Should he wait until the shrillpiping ceases,then he isa dead man.In the darkness a ghostly soundis heard it is likea long-drawn sigh, the far-away sobbing of an
yolian
harp;and
immediatelytheshimmer
ofthelamp
is seencoming
nearerand
nearer,and ina minute the mysteri- ous searcher ofthe hidden secret appears.His countenance is paler than before deathly;
and
drops of sweat coursedown
his foreheadand
cheeks.Down
below the air must be heavier in the cavern, or the nightmare of the abyss has caused this colddamp.
He
throws his well-filled wallet into the boat, and seats himselfin itagain.
It
was
time. Scarcelyhas he taken his placewhen
a gurgling is heard,and
out of the fissures of the rockcomes
a gush ofblack water,shootingforth with aloud, bubblingnoise.Then
follows afewminutes' pause,and
again anothergushofwater.The
cavernisfillingrapid- ly. In a shorttime,over thesmooth
surfaceofthewall,5 thewatermark
shows
itself. Clear as alooking-glass it rises, noiselessly, surely, until it has reached the black lineupon
the pillars.The
boat, with its silent, watchful occupant, floatsupon
the water liketheghost ofthe cavern.The
wateris notlike ordinarywater; itis heavy like metal.
The
boatmoves
slowly, onlynow
the rower does not careto lookinto the depths ofthe blacklooking-glass; he paysno
attention to the mysterious signs on the walls.He
is occupied taking stock of the air about him,which is
growing denser every
moment, and
he looks carefully at his safety-lamp,but itis closely shut.No
escape there.There
is a great fog all round the lamp.The
air in this underground abyss takes a blue shade.The man
in the boat
knows
wellwhat
this means.The
flame of the safety-lamp flares high,and
thewick turns redbad
signs these!The
angel of death ishovering near.Two
spiritsdwell in these subterranean regions two fearfully wicked spirits.The
pitmen call oneStormy
Weather, the otherBad Weather
;and
these two evil spirits haunt every coal-mine, under different names.Bad Weather
stealsupon
its victim, lies like a thick vaporupon
his chest, follows the miner stepby
step, takesaway
.his breath and his speech, laughs at his alarm,and
vanishes,when
it has reached its height, just as suddenly as it came.Stormy Weather
is farmore
cruel fearful. It
comes
likeawhirlwind; itsets every- thing in a flame, kindles the lumps of coal, shatters the vaults,destroys the shaft, burns the ground,and
dasheshuman
beings to pieces.Those who
gain their liveli-hood
by working underground can never tellwhen
theymay
meet one orother ofthese evil spirits.The
secret of "stormy weather,"
whence
it comes,when
itmay
come, noman
has yet discovered. It isBLACK DIAMONDS
believed thatit arisesfromthe contact of the hydrogen gases with the acid gases which are contained in the open air; and"bad weather" needsonly a sparkto turn into
"stormy
weather."The
thoughtless opening of a safety-lamp, thestriking ofa match, is sufficienttofuse the twoevil spirits into one.The
solitaryman whom we
have been shadowingsees, with ananxietythat increases everymoment, how
theairbecomes more and more
the color ofan opal. Alreadyit is enveloping
him
ina thin cloud.He
does not wait for the flood to.rise to its highest point, for,when
he reaches a place in thewallwhere asort of landing-stage has been made, hejumps upon
it,draws the boatby its chain,andmoors
itfast,and
then, ascendingby some
rude steps toa strong iron door,he opens it with a key, and, closing it behind him, finds himself in a passage which leadshim
straight into thepit.Here
he is in a busy world, very different from the solitude he hasleft.The
streets,which arenarrowand
close,arefullof minershardatworkwiththeirhammers.
The men
are nearly naked, the boyswho
push the wag- onsare whollyso. There isno
sound heard butthat of the never-ceasing hammers. In themine
there are nojollysongs,
no
heartylaughter.Over
themouth
ofeach minera thickcloth is tied,through which he breathes.Some
of the passages are so narrow that the workeris obliged to lie
upon
his back, and in this position to reach the coal with his pick.When
he has loosened ithe drops itinto the littlewagon, which the naked boys, crawling
upon
their stomachs, push beforethem
to the opening.The man who
hascome
out ofthe dark cavern does notdiffer indressfrom anyoftheothers.He
isclothed, certainly, but his clothes are covered with coal-dust, his7
hands are just as coarse,
and
he carries a pickand
ahammer
on his shoulder. Nevertheless, they allknow him
; there is a roughcivilityin thetone ofeachman
as he answers the other's greeting, "Good-evening.Bad Weather
is coming.''The word
isrepeated all round.It was true.
Bad Weather was
close at hand, and thesemen and
boys,who
quietlycome
andgo,hammer,
shove thewagons,lie on their backs,all know,as well as the convictwho
is awaiting the execution of his sen- tence, that death is near.The
heavy,damp
fog which liesupon
each man'schest, and which fills the
mine
with itsunwholesome
smell, needs only a spark,
and
thosewho now
liveand move
are dead men,buriedunderground,whileoverhead a hundredwidows and
orphansweep and
clamor fortheir lost ones.
And
yet,knowing
this, the miners continue calmlyto work, as if quite unconscious that the dread Angel ofDeath
is hoveringabout them.The man who
has just entered is Ivan Behrend,theowner
of the mine.He
unites in himself the office of overseer, director, surveyor,and
bookkeeper.He
hasenough
todo
; butwe
allknow
the proverb, and, ifwe
have lived long enough, have tested its truth, "If you
want
a thingwelldone,do
it yourself." Moreover,it is an encouragement to theworker ifhe seeshis employergo
shoulder to shoulder withhim
in the work. There-fore, as
we
have just seen, the master greets all hisworkmen
with the words,"Bad Weather
is coming,"and
they allknow
thatthe master does not considerhis life ofmore
value than theirs; he does notfly and leave
them
all the danger, because he is theowner and
getsallthe protit. Ouietly,withthe most perfect composure,
8
BLACK DIAMONDS
hegiveshisorders theventilators are to be opened a charge of cool air at onceto the heated coal;
and
the workers are to go offwork
after three instead of six hours.He
gets into the pail,coveredwith buffalo-skin, and lets himselfdown
to thebottomofthe shaft, to seeif the
new
openings are dangerous.He
turnsovercare- fully with anironbar thecoal-dust, to try if any of itis heated, or if gas is there concealed which might cause an explosion. Then, as the ventilators below and the air-pump above begin towork, he takes his place atthe anometer. This is a tender little machine, something like thehumming-top
of children. Its axle turnsupon
aruby,and
the spring' sets awheel with ahundred teeth in motion; the velocity ofthis wheel showsthe strength of the current of air in the shaft. It should neither be stronger nor weaker than the motion of the"bad
weather."
He
hasnow
seen to everything; he has taken every precaution, he has left nothing to chance, and,when
allthe minershave quitted the pit, he is the lastto ascend
in the basket tothe freshair
and
thedaylight.Fresh air daylight!
In
Bondavara
the sun never shines,theshadow
ofthesmoke
hangs like a thick cloud over the land; it is a black country, painted in chalk.The
roads are black with coal-tracks; the houses are black from the coal- dust, which the wind carries hereand
there from the large coal warehouses; themen and
thewomen
are black. It isawonder
the birds over there inthewoods
are not black also.The mouth
of the Bondavarapit is oti the slope of ahill, which,
when
you ascend it, gives you a fine view over the whole country.On
the other side, in the val- ley,are the tall chimneysofthe distilling-ovens,These
$ chimneys are busy night
and
day,vomitingforth smoke, sometimes white, but generally coal-black; for here is distilled the sulphur which forms acomponent
of thecoal.
The
metal can onlybe meltedwhen
in this condition.One
of the principal customers of the coal-mine is the iron-foundry on the neighboring mountain, which hasfive chimneys from which the
smoke
issues. If thehammer
throwsup
white smoke, then the oven distils blacksmoke, and so contrariwise. Both factories work- ing together cast over the valley a continuous veil of cloudand
smoke, through which even thebeams
ofthe sun lookbrown and
dingy.From
the foundry flows a rusty-redstream,and out of the coal-mine another,which is as black as ink. In the valleyboththese streamsuniteand
continuetheircourse together. For a little the rusty-redtries to get the bet- ter ofthe inky-black, but ithas to giveup,and
theblack rivulet flowson
triumphantlythrough theblackmeadow
lands.
Itis a
most
depressing landscape,and
it is saddening toreflectthatin sucha placemen
havegrown
fromchild-hood
tomiddle age,from middleagetooldage,and
have never seen the green fields or the blue sky of God's heaven.But Ivan Behrend,
when
he ascended from thepitinto the open air,foundlittle contrastbetween theupperand
the under ground. Below, therewas
the stifling smell of gas; above, a suffocating fog: below, the black vault of themine
; above, themurky
vault of the heavens:and
thesame men
aboveand
below.It was then evening; the sun
had gone
down,and
for themoment
even the vilesmoke
could not rob itof its setting glory.The
towers ofthedistant castle of Bon-10 feLACK
DIAMONDS
davara were touched with its gleam, and the chimneys of the distilling-houses were aglow with this crimson
light.
The
miners were standingaboutidly; thewomen and
the girls,who
are employed in shoving the wheel- barrows, sat gossiping together, asis themanner
ofthe sex.One
ofthem, ayoung
girl,began to sing a sim- ple little song, with simple words. It wasa Slavvolks- lied a sortof romance.A
mother is taking leave of her daughter, a bride of a few hours; sherecalls to the girl her childish days and her mother's care in these words:"
Wcnn
ich das Haar dir strich, Zerr' icham
Haare dich?Wenn
ich dich wusch, mein Kind,War
ich je ungelind?"The melody was
touching, with the sad strain that allthe Slav musichas, as if
composed
with tears;and
the voice of the onewho
sangwas
musical and full of feel- ing. Ivan stopped to listento the songuntil thesingerand
her companions disappeared behind the houses.At
thismoment
itseemed
tohim
that there was a greatdifferencebetweenlife undergroundand
life in the open.The
song still sounded in the distance; the cloudshad
passed over and extinguished the light of the set- ting sun, enveloping the landscape in total darkness.No
star,no white house; only the light from the win-dows
of the foundry lightedup
the darkness of night; and thesmoke
of the distilling-factory rose from the chimneysand
castyellowcirclesupon
thesky.CHAPTER
THE
SLAVE OFTHE BLACK DIAMONDS
THERE
is nothing startling ornew
in the declaration thatwhen we
speakof "black
diamonds
"we mean
coal.That
beautiful, brilliant stone, thediamond, ismade
of carbon.So
is your house-coal the only difference being, the one is transparent, the other black;and
thefirst is the
demon,
thelast the angel.Coal
moves
the world.The
spiritofprogresscomes
from it; railroads, steamboats borrow from it their wonderful strength. Everymachine
thatis,and
works, has its existence from coal. Itmakes
the earth habi- table; itgives to the greatcities their mightyblaze and splendor. It is a treasure, the last gift presented by earth to extravagant man.Therefore it is that
we
callcoal "black diamonds."Ivan Behrend, the
owner
oftheBondavara
coal-mine,was
not exactly in the condition ofsome
of his pitmen, rie had seen God's heaven,and knew how
in happier lands life was bright, careless,sunny
as the cloudless sky itself. But foran existence whichwas all play and no work, Ivanwould
not havecared.He
hadinherited the coal-mine from his father,who had
lefthim
alsoan inheritanceofa strongwilland
inflexible perseverance.No
trifle, nor even a great obstacle, could stand in theway
of Ivan's wishes, and his wish and hispride wasto work theBondavara mine
without any help but what12 feLACK
DIAMONDS
his pitmen gave him. It was his ambition perhapsa foolish one to have no
company
at hisback, no share- holders to find fault,no
widowsand
orphans to be in- volved in possible ruin; themine was
his,and
his itshould be absolutely. Therefore it
was
a quiet busi- ness.The
foundry and the inhabitantsof the nearest townconsumed
the yearly output at anuncommonly
low price. It never could be, unless withenormous
outlay, a great
money-making
business, seeing that the mine wastoo faraway
from anyof the great centres.Nevertheless, it brought in a steady income, especially as Ivan paid
no
useless expenses,and was, aswe
havesaid,his
own
overseerand
accountant.He knew
every- thingthatwenton, heunderstood hisown
business per- fectly,and
he took a pleasure in looking after hisown
affairs;
and
these three qualifications,as any businessman
knows, insure ultimate success.It was well, however, that he enjoyed such
good
health,
and
that this superabundance of vital energy kepthim
always occupied, and,by
a natural conse- quence,never dull.There
was no denying that itwas
asolitary life forsoyoung
aman.
Ivan was verylittle over thirty,
and when
he opened thedoorof hissmall housewith his key,and
closed the door behind him, hewas
alone.He
hadn'teven adog
to
come and
greet him.He
waitedupon
himself;and
inthis he
was
a greatman.
Eating he lookedupon
as an unnecessary waste of time; nevertheless, he ate a great deal, for his muscularand
mental system needed food.He was
not delicate in his appetite.He
dined everyday atthetavern. His foodwas
verylittle better thanthat of his pitmen, the only difference being that he avoided the strong drinks they indulged in forthis reason, that theyworked
only withtheirbodies; hehad13
to bring to his
work
a clear intellect, not a soddened one. His bed needed no making. It was awooden
plank,upon
which a mattresswas
placed,covered witha sheep-skin.There
was no use in brushing his clothes; they were always permeated with coal-dust.Any
onewho
would offer,by way
of doinghim
a service, to clearout his room, would, in fact, havedone
hima deadly injury. Itwas
full of every sort of thingnew
books half cut, minerals, scientific instruments, plans, pictures, retorts.Not
one of these should bemoved
from its place.There was
orderin thedisorder,and
in the heterogeneousmass
Ivan couldfindwhat
he wanted. In one cornerwas
Lavoisier's pyrometer; in another Berard's gas food-warmer.Over
there a won- derful sun-telescope; against thewall Bunsen'sgalvanic battery,together with every conceivable invention,every sort ofchemical apparatus for analyzingand searching into the mysteries ofNature.Amongst
these things Ivan waswont
to spend the long nights. Another man, tired as he must have been with his day's work, would have flung himselfupon
his bed,and
have sought in sleepsome
compensation for the labors of the day, orif not wearyenough
for this,would have sat before his door and breathed the fresh air, which atnight
was
free fromsmoke and
coal-dust.But this student of the unseen withdrew into hisinner chamber, lit his fire,
made
hislamp
blaze, and busied himselfbreaking lumps of coal, cooking seeds, develop- ingdeadlygases, abreath of which wasenough
to send aman
into eternity.What was
it he searched for?Was
he seeking the secret of the philosopher's stone?Did
heabandon
sleep to find outhow diamonds
can bemade
outof coal? Did he strive to extract deadly poisons, orwas
14 BLACK
DIAMONDS
he simply pursuing the ignisfatuus of knowledge try- ing experiments,grubbinginthe dark until, inthe hope-
less endeavor, the over-strained brain would give way, andthere would be only the wreck of
what was
oncea noble intellect?Nothingof the sort. This
man had
a purpose; he wanted to learn a secret whichwould
be of infinite benefit tomankind
at least, to thosewho
are buried in the pits and caverns of the earth.He
wanted to find out by whatmeans
it would be possible to extin- guish fire in burning pits.To
discover this he con-sumed
his nightsand
the years of his youth and hismanhood.
Itwas
no thought born of to-day oryester- day; ithad
beenhisonedesire formany
years.He had
seen somuch
misery, such heartrending scenesenacted before these pitmouths
these monsters which swallow uphuman
life like the Juggernauts of old.He
wanted to prevent thisamount
of sacrifipe a sacrifice never thoughtofby
thosewho
profit from the labor of these victims,whose
veryblood isspilled tokeepotherswarm.Itispossible this one idea might drive
him
mad, orhe might lose his life; but the knowledge, if he did gainit, wouldbe, in his opinion, worth the loss. After all, what is the loss of one life against the savingofmill- ions? This
man had
a fine nature; therewas
no tinge ofselfin Ivan Behrend. Also, he had a certainenjoy-ment
in his search.Enjoyment
is not the word.Whenever
he got even a glimpse of what he wanted, his joywas
something unearthly. Surely thesemoments
were worth all the pleasures theworldcouldofferhim
;and
ifwe
can bring our minds to understand this, thenwe
shallcomprehend how
ayoung man
preferredto be shutup
in a cavern, in danger of losing his life, or in a stifling room, trying risky experiments, rather than15 spend the night with beautiful maidens or pleasant fellows, drinking, dancing, and love-making.
There
isa
charm
in Science to thosewho know
her that far sur- passes carnal joys.To-night, however, it
must
be confessed, Ivan's ex- perimentsfell a little flat. Eitherhewas
tired, orsome
other causewas
at work.Could
it be possible that a girl's song Yes, suchwas
the humiliating condition of affairs.At
themoment when
he least expected it,this thing
had
unexpectedly seizedupon
him.With
an effort Ivan lit hislamp
and lighted his fur- nace. His experiments, however, wereafailure.That
girl's song kept running in his head,
and
the wordshow
did they go?"
Say when I smoothed thy hair,
Showed I not tender care?
Say when I dressed
my
child,Was
I not fond and mild?"*It
was
verypretty,and
the voice wonderful sosweetand
clearand
melodious.To-morrow
evening she might be at the pit'smouth
again,and
then hewould
find out her name.
Even
if she were not there, the othergirlswouldknow
; therewere not somany
singersamong
them."
Saywhen I smoothed thy hair"
Oh, he could settle
down
to nothingwith thistiresome song!''
Showed I not tender care?"
He
wished hehad
seen her face, merely toknow
if itmatched
the voice.Very
likely not.She
would be*These lines have been kindly translated from the original by Mitt Troutbeck.
l6
BLACK DIAMONDS
hard-featured, like the other girls bold,
unwomanly
creatures; beauty and modesty were rare gifts in Bon- davara.The
next day Ivanwas
earlyatthepit.The
openingofthe air-oven
had
done its work; therewasonly a frac- tional quantityof hydrogen mixedwith thepitair.The
ventilators could be shut,
and
Ivanwas
able to spendsome
time in the open.At
twelve o'clock the bell rangto leaveoffwork.As
the girlscame
from the wheelbarrows, he again heard the clearyoung
voice singing thesame
song.He
had notbeenwrong
as to the voice;itwas
freshand lovely,like the blackbird in the woods, uneducated
and
un- spoiled, butfull of natural charm, tenderand
joyous asthefeathered songster.
He
couldnow
see the singer a veryyoung
girl, notmore
than sixteen.The common
blue bodice she wore
showed
every undulation of her girlish figure, untrammelled by any fashionable stays.Her
short redskirt, tucked up on oneside,andfastened to her waist, disclosed her still shorter chemise, which only reached to her knees, so that her legswere uncov- ered.They
might have been modelled for a statue of Hebe, so perfectwere theyin shape the ankles small, and littlefeet beautifully rounded,likeachild's.About
herhead thegirlhad wound
acolored cloth,and underthis she
had
tuckedaway
her hair; her face, like thoseof hercompanions, was blackened by the coal-dust, but eventhis
enemy
to beautycould notdisfigure her.You
could seethat her features were regular, her eyebrows thick and dark, her lips red.
There
was a mixture of earthly dirt and supernatural beauty about this child; besides, she had one thingthateven coal-dust could not conceal or dim, her eyes herlargeblack eyes shining liketwo diamonds, whichlitup
the darknessastwostars,IJ
As
thesewonderful eyesmet
Ivan's glance, itseemed
to thatphilosopheras ifthese
diamonds
cutaway
a por- tion of the glass phial in which hehad
preserved hisheart,
and
sokept ituntouchedup
to this. But he did notknow
that this was only the beginning; his glass protector will soon lie in fragments allround him.The
girlmade
alittle curtseytoher employer,and
ac-companied
this small act of duty with a smile whichshowed
two rows of beautiful, pearly-whiteteeth.Ivanfelt like an enchantedknight in afairytale.
He
forgot
what had
broughthim
here,and
what he wanted to say; he remained rooted tothe spot,gazing blankly afterthe retreating figure ofthegirland
hercompanions.He
hoped, without exactly definingwhat
hishope
was, thatshewouldlook back.That
littleactionwould
have broken thecharm
under which he lay. Butshe did not look back, althoughoneofhercompanions
calledherby her name, "Evila." Ivan couldseethem
talkingto her, whispering, no doubt, about him. Thisdidnotseem
to rouse anycuriosity inher.She
and theyhadnow come
to an open shed.
Here
they seated themselvesupon
the ground, took out of their pockets pieces of black breadand
wildapples,and
ate theirmealwith asmuch
zest as if it
had
been chicken andgrapes.Ivanreturned to his house. For the first time in his life itstruck
him how
lonely it was. It was his custom to keep a sort of log-book, in which he entered his per- sonal notesupon
all his work-people.He
found this practice very necessary; heknew
that a skilled work-man
ofgood
conduct is farmore
useful at highwages
than a lazy, good-for-nothing fellowof doubtful charac- terwho
wouldcome
forhalf the wage. At the footnote by thename
"Kvila"he read
"
A young
orphan;supports a crippled brotheryounger18
BLACK DIAMONDS
than herself,
who
goesupon
crutches, andwhose
tongueisparalyzed. She isverysteady,and doesnotgo to the town."
Itwas certain, therefore, that he
must
have seenthis child before,buthad
givenno
attention to her. Every Saturday hepaid everyworkman,
everygirl and lad in the pit; how,then, had he escaped noticing thosewon- derfuleyes?He
didnot know, learned as hewas, that there is an affinitybetween two souls destined for one another. Itis like an electric shock, this sudden birth of love; but Ivanridiculed such an idea.Love
?Non-
sense!He
in lovewith agirl out of the pit? Ridicu- lous! Itwas compassion, merelypity for apretty child, left without either father or mother to watch over her tender age, and, stillworse, with a deformed brotherto careforand provide with foodandmedicines.No
doubt she gavehim
the best of everything, while shehad tobe content with black bread and wild apples,and
all the timeremained an honest, steadygirl.She
never even turned herheadto look after him.There was
nothing but pityin his heart for this coal-blackNaiad
; it was onlypitymade him
wish tocover those tenderlittle feet with proper shoes; itwas
only a proper regard for the weakestamong
his work-people which would causehim
to
make
inquiries as to thispoorforlorn child. Oh,self- deception,whata partyou play inmen'shearts!The
following Saturday theworkerscame
to receive theirweekly wages. Ivan,who
always paidthem
him-self, remained athis desk until the last one came.
On
thisoccasion Evila
was
thelast. Ivan sat at atable, on which was placed thesum
to be paid,whichwas
regu-lated by the accountofthe
work
done, which wasregis- tered inthe day-book.When
the girl,who was
dressed aswhen we
firstsaw
19 her, in her blue bodice
and
redskirt, presented herself, Ivan said toher kindly"
My
child, Ihave determinedtoincreaseyour wages; from thisdayyou shallhave double pay."The
girlopened
her large eyes,and
staredin surprise."Why
so?" she asked."Because I
am
told thatyou
have a crippled brother,whom
you have to keepoutofyoursmall earnings.You
cannot haveenough
to clothe and feed both himand
yourself. I have also heard that you are a well-con- ducted, honest girl,
and
therefore it givesme
pleasuretoreward you bygivingyou double pay."
"
I cannottake it."
-Why
not?""Because I
know
what the otherswould
say.They would
joke and teaseme
about your beingmy
lover,and
I should get so tormented that I could not stay in the place."
Ivan
was
so confounded bythis naive explanation, given without the slightest confusion, that he couldmake no
answer.He
counted out the usual week's wages, which she stowedaway
in thebosom
of her bodice,wishedhim good
morning,and
went her way.He
remained, his thoughts in a maze. In all his ex- perience and hehad
agood
deal, for histimehad
not been always spent in Bondavara, and out in the world he hadknown many women
hehad known no woman
like this.
She
is afraid they will say Iam
her lover; she is afraid they will tease her somuch
on that account that shemay
have to leave the place !Has
she, then, no ideathat once I,the master, loved agirlhere,shewould not push the wheelbarrow anymore
?Does
she evenknow
what a lover is5 She kn.\vs well that she must20
BLACK DIAMONDS
guard herself against one. Poor child!
How
earnest she was,and
yet she laughed,andshe did notknow why
she laughed, nor yet
why
she was grave.A
savage in the guise of an angel!He
got up, locked his desk, and turned to leave his office; then again remained, thinking.She is unlike every other
woman.
I doubt if sheknows how
beautiful she is, orwhat
is the worth of beauty. She is Eve, a perfect copyofEve
theEve
ofScripture,and the
Eve
of Milton. She is Eve, in notknowing
wherefore she should blush over herown
nakedness the type of the beautiful in its primitive state, unwashed,savage, with hair unconfined,who
wan- ders through the garden, fearing nothing,and even play- ing with a serpent.With men
she is awoman, by
her-selfshe is a child,and yet she displays a motherly care
for her little brother.
Her
figure is a model for asculptor,her countenance is full of mind, her eyes be- witching, her voice melodious; and yet her hands are hard with the barrow-poles, her
mind
is troubled with sordid caresforherdailybread, herface is coveredwith coal-smut,and
she has learned her songsin thestreet."
The
worse for her!" and, after a pause,Ivanadded
with asigh, "and the worse foranother besidesher."In his
mind
a totalrevolutionhad
taken place.The
intellectual spirits had for the nonce deserted him, and
intheirplace others
had come
of a very different order thosedemons
which the blessedAntony
had fought with suchgood
effect in the desert.When
poor Ivan tried to banish these temptersby
burying himself in his books and his scientific instru-ments the form of Evila
came
betweenhim
and the ex- periment he was busy on, just as Marguerite appeared to Doctor Faustin his laboratory; her voice soundedinhisear, her eyesglowed in the coals,
and when
he tried to write he found himself drawing amaiden
in a blue bodice andshort red skirt. Itwas
thesame
with every- thingheundertook.Some mocking demon seemed
bent on tormenting him.Abandoning
his experiments, this unfortunateman
took to reading avolume of light literature.
What
did he open on?The
loves of greatand
nobly-bornmen
forlowly-born and inferior
women. Thus Lord
Douglasfell in love with a shepherdess,
and became
a shepherd forher sake;Count
Pelletier took for his wife a gypsygirl, and went about the streets turningan organ; Ber- nadotte, the
King
of Sweden, sought thehand
of ayoung
girlwho watched
a flock of geese for a farmer;Archduke John
married the daughter of a postmaster;and
another Austrianduke
raised an actress to the position of grand duchess; the consort of Peter the Greatwas
the daughter of avillager; a Bonaparte mar- ried awasherwoman who
had been his mistress.And why
not?Are
not beauty, sweetness, fidelity,and
trueworth to be found under a woollen as well as under a silken frock? And, on the other hand,do we
notfind sinnersenough
in the uppercircles?Did not Zoraida kill her
own
children,and was
she not a born princess? Faustina tookmoney
from herlovers,although she
was
the daughter of an emperor;the Marquise Astorgas ran a hairpin through her hus- band's heart; Semiramis strewed a whole churchyard with the corpses of her spouses;
King
Otto was poi- soned in a groveby
his queen;Joanna
of Naples treasured the ribbon with which the king, her husband, was strangled; Jeanne Lafolle tormented herhusband
to death; the
Empress
Catharine betrayed her sovereignand
consort, and connived at hismurder
; and the22
BLACK DIAMONDS
Borgias, Tudors, Cillis, all
had
wiveswho became
no- torious in that they wore entwined in their crowns the girdle ofAphrodite.And do we
notfindthemost exaltedvirtueinwhat
is called low life?The
actress Gaussin, towhom
herwealthylover gave a checkwith carteblanche to write a million thereupon, onlywrotethatshe
would
alwayslovehim
, Quintilla, another actress, bit off her tongue,lest she should betray her lover,who was
implicated in a conspiracy; Alice,who
undertookto fighta duel forher husband,and was
killed;and many
otherswho
have suffered silentlyand died forverylove.Philosophy
and
historyboth conspired against Ivan.And
thencame
sleep.A dream
is a magicmirror in whichwe
see ourselves aswe would
be ifourown
wishesand
inclinations were all-powerful. In hisdream
the baldman
has hairand
the blindsees.Towards
the end of the followingweek
Ivanmade
the discoverythat he had lostthe useof hisunderstand- ing.
The more
he endeavored to force hismind
back to its original groove of abstract theories, themore
thedemons
ranged themselves against him.One
evening,in a fit of absence of mind, he overheated one of the
retorts, so that it burst in his face,
and
the small glass particles cut his noseand
cheek,and he was forced to bindup
hiswounds
with bits of sticking-plaster. It did not occurtohim
that these strips of black diachy- lon placed obliquely acrosshis nose did not improvehis appearance.He
was, however, veryangry at hisown
folly a follywhich went still further, for he began to arguewith himselfin this
way
:"
Itwould be better to marry this girlthanto
become
for her sake.